Anniversary
by Deb3
Summary: 8th in the Fearful Symmetry series. It's the anniversary of Horatio's mother's death, but this time, Calleigh is there.


A/N: This little piece of angst/fluff is an extremely tight sequel to Fearful Symmetry. It is impossible to understand this story without reading that one. Those of you who have not yet read FS, please do so before proceeding further. It is archived at This one will still be waiting for you when you finish that.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own CSIM, but I wish I did. Not my characters, but I wish they were. If I can't have them all, I'll gladly settle for Horatio. I did not write South Pacific or Brigadoon either, and I sincerely applaud the awesome talents who did (Rodgers and Hammerstein, Lerner and Loewe).  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Series Recap: Fearful Symmetry, Can't Fight This Feeling, Gold Medals, Surprises, Honeymoon, Blackout, The Hopes and Fears. All archived at Lonely Road if you wish to read or reread.  
  
Sneak Peak at Future Series Installments: Horatio's ex-wife re-enters the picture, and Speed's new girlfriend becomes involved in a case.  
  
***  
  
"Music I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you was more than bread."  
  
Conrad Aiken  
  
***  
  
They hoped for the best but prepared for the worst. They both scheduled a full week off simultaneously but with no trip or activities planned, ignoring the jests of Delko and Speed, while hoping that they would, in fact, be fulfilling their coworkers imaginings. They went to bed early on the night of April 2 and, after making love, drifted off in each others arms. This year will be different, they promised each other. This year will be different. Actually, it was only half a promise. Half of it was a prayer.  
  
***  
  
Calleigh woke up first and shook Horatio awake. He came back to awareness with a jerk, snapping bolt upright, then collapsing back against the pillows. He was sweating, and his whole body was trembling. Calleigh, tightening her grip on him, pressing her head against his chest, could feel his gasping breaths and hear the ragged, irregular gallop of his heartbeat. She knew that he had nightmares, had trouble sleeping at times, but even after last year, she hadn't realized the full impact of this particular nightmare. She was honestly concerned for him physically at first, not just emotionally. She stroked his back and shoulders gently. Neither of them said a word for several minutes. Gradually, the heartbeat steadied and slowed.  
  
"What time is it?" he asked finally. She raised her head and looked at the digital clock behind him.  
  
"3:00 AM."  
  
"Past midnight." He gripped her tightly, burying his face in her luxurious hair, so the next words were mumbled. "I really did want it to be different this year."  
  
"It will be." Calleigh was at her best when faced with a challenge. "We know a lot more now, Horatio. We know how to beat this. We've just got to replace it with something else. Like we did with you not remembering what she looked like. Only this will take a little longer, since we only get one week a year to work on it. The other one was there all the time, so we could beat it faster."  
  
He kissed the top of her head. "You really want to go through it with me? You could . . . "  
  
"Shut up." She pulled his head down and shut his mouth with her own. She had had several distractions prepared, just in case, but one of them didn't require daylight. She playfully, skillfully coaxed his attention away from his memories. Afterwards, they lay wrapped in each other's arms, and they did manage to get back to sleep. For the moment.  
  
The next time they woke up, it was 6:00. Enough early light spilled through the curtains that she could see him now. She hugged him, held him, reassuring him with her presence. They lay there for a while until her stomach growled. Horatio chuckled. His laughter was as soft and velvet smooth as his voice. "Guess we'd better get up," he said. He gave her a final squeeze, then threw the covers back and picked up his robe.  
  
"What do you want for breakfast?" Calleigh swung her own legs out of bed.  
  
"Just coffee." He disappeared into the shower, and she headed for the kitchen. By the time he emerged, she had a lavish breakfast on the table, plates heaped for both of them. Horatio eyed it dubiously. "That's just coffee?"  
  
"No, it's not." She pushed him down into his chair, then stroked his damp hair fondly. "This year, you aren't going to stop eating for a week. Don't even try it. I know you're not hungry, but I have a lot more leverage over you now than I used to." She took her own chair and pitched in, setting an example for him. When she had finished, she looked up and found him studying her face like he was memorizing the features. "What is it?"  
  
"I used to dream of this. Sharing breakfast, sharing life. For years. Ever since I met you."  
  
"So did I, Horatio. I dreamed about you the first night after we met, before I even left Louisiana." She stood up and came around to his chair, stroking his cheek lovingly. "You haven't quite finished breakfast. Do I have to feed it to you?" He grinned and picked up his fork again. "It was like lightning. I couldn't get you out of my mind."  
  
"Like South Pacific," he said.  
  
"South Pacific?"  
  
"The musical. 'Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger across a crowded room, and somehow you know, you know even then.'" He finished eating. "Why don't we watch South Pacific today. Do you like musicals?"  
  
"In the right mood, yes."  
  
"What is the right mood?"  
  
She looked into his bottomless blue eyes. "With you." He stood up and kissed her.  
  
"I happen to be available today. Why don't I clean up the dishes while you take your shower? Then we can watch love stories."  
  
She kissed him back. "Are you okay alone for a few minutes?"  
  
"Calleigh, I've been through this alone for years. Just having you in the same house makes it better."  
  
"We are going to beat this, though. That reminds me, I've got a present for you." She crossed to her purse and took out a small package, tossing it to him. "Catch."  
  
He caught it deftly and opened it. "A Rubic's cube?"  
  
"Right. I was thinking of watching you work that one on our honeymoon. It took all of your attention. I'd think it would knock anything else out of your mind, at least temporarily. It takes too much focus."  
  
He studied the cube, which she had prescrambled. "What happens when I'm finished with it?" The first time in his life he had ever seen one, he had worked it in two minutes. He appreciated the thought, but as a distraction, it would be short-lived.  
  
"Work it a different way. Stripes, patches, whatever. You've got endless possibilities there. Why be ordinary?"  
  
He smiled at her. "Thanks, Cal. It's a good idea. Now go take your shower." By the time she got out of the shower, he had cleared off the table, washed the dishes, and worked the cube into a pattern of stripes. He snapped the last row into place as she came into the living room.  
  
They settled into a comfortable huddle on the couch and started the movie. Calleigh hadn't seen South Pacific in years, and she was forced to laugh in spots. "I'm not about to wash you out of my hair," she promised him fiercely as the women on the screen proclaimed their independence. They snuggled up tighter during Some Enchanted Evening, and after the movie was over, they just stayed there on the couch. She pulled his head over onto her shoulder, stroking his hair lovingly. She could still feel the tension in his shoulders, though. "What is it like?" she asked.  
  
He raised his head, and she pulled it back down firmly. "You sure you want to know?"  
  
"Yes. I need to know what you're going through, so I can share it. So we can beat it."  
  
He leaned into her for strength. "That kitchen. It's like a repeating movie reel in my mind that never shuts off, day or night. It gets stronger over the four days, but I've always thought that was because I'm so worn down by the end of it." He shuddered slightly, and she stroked his hair a little more firmly. She had seen the crime scene photos from his mother's murder, and they had even shocked her despite her experience of violence. She couldn't imagine seeing it in real life, having it be your own mother beaten to death so viciously.  
  
"How on earth did you ever manage to work during that?"  
  
"I didn't. I always took it off until last year. And last year, I didn't have a choice." He opened his eyes and pulled back a bit, looking at her. "I never could have done it last year without you."  
  
She remembered that week vividly, when she first realized exactly how much Horatio had kept under the surface. "What I still can't believe is that you went through it alone for 27 years."  
  
"No choice," he said shortly.  
  
"People would have been there, if you would have let them." She saw a thought pass behind his eyes and quickly vanish. "What is it?"  
  
He studied her thoroughly before he answered. "My ex-wife left me the first week in April."  
  
"She what?!?!" Calleigh came upright on the couch in a surge of rage. Horatio had never spoken about his ex-wife, and she had filed that among other things that would have to be pried out of him gently. She was making progress with him, but even after months of marriage, there were things he kept to himself.  
  
Horatio's lips twisted at her reaction, but there was no humor in it. "She walked out on me, April 3, the second year of our marriage. She told me she couldn't take it anymore. The first year, she wound up staying in a hotel. Actually, she told me nobody would ever be able to take it. She said I'd never have a relationship that survived this week."  
  
Calleigh's voice slowly unfroze. "So when you ask me if I'm sure if I want to go through this with you, that's what you're thinking of?" He nodded slowly. "Horatio, I will never, as long as I live, leave you alone in this or anything else. No matter what. And we are going to beat this, remember?" And I'd like five minutes alone with your ex-wife.  
  
As always, he heard her thoughts. "No, Cal, she wasn't a bad person. There just wasn't a connection there. Nothing strong enough to stay for."  
  
"Why did you marry, then?"  
  
"Because we were both tired of being alone. Lousy reason, I know. Marcella tried, she really did. So did I. We'd been good friends before." He hit the last word with regret.  
  
"Not since?"  
  
"No. She said I lived everything too intensely. The highs and the lows both. She said she couldn't handle the roller coaster, not even as a friend anymore, and she walked out and said she never wanted to see me again. I wished her well. Still do, in fact."  
  
Calleigh leaned over and kissed him. "Well, we have plenty here that's worth fighting for. I'm not leaving. Not ever." He kissed her back gratefully. "I almost married someone once just so I wouldn't be alone any more."  
  
"Really? Who?"  
  
"A friend in college. He was a good friend, too. But . . . "  
  
"No enchanted evening?"  
  
She smiled at him. "Nope. No spark, no fire."  
  
"Be glad you left it at friends, then. Being alone is better than being with the wrong person." He squeezed her. "I'm glad she left me, though."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"So I'd be available for you."  
  
She squeezed him back with all her strength. "Like I told you a year ago, you've got me now. There is nothing that's going to shake me out of your life. And we are going to beat this." She straightened up. "Right now, it's lunch time. Here," tossing him the cube, "work that into patches for me while I cook lunch."  
  
She brought their plates to the couch, not wanting to be separated by the kitchen table. He passed the cube to her as she sat down. It was now geometric patches, an organized rainbow. "Horatio, you're incredible."  
  
He shook his head. "Just born this way. Mom used to time me on jigsaw puzzles." For an instant, thinking of her alive replaced the image of her dead, and Calleigh saw the thought and squeezed his arm.  
  
"Remember her that way. She told you to think of her happy, after all." Horatio thought of the last time he had seen her, when she had come to him during his coma after the bridge collapse. It was, for a while, stronger than the memory of her murder scene.  
  
"Maybe you're right, Cal. Maybe replacing it with something else is the key. I hope so. This is already much better than it usually is."  
  
Dear God, what had he gone through all his life? She measured the depths of it by what he considered better. "I'm sure it will work. It'll just take a little time." As little as possible, if I have anything to do with it. They ate in silence but touching, reassuring each other with the contact. Calleigh finished first and looked pointedly at his half-empty plate until he started eating a little faster. "What should we do this afternoon? What did you usually do this week, Horatio?"  
  
"Usually, I'd try to sleep as much as I could, the first day. It gets worse, you know."  
  
"Not anymore. From this point on, it only gets better. Still, I think sleep is a great idea. Let's take an afternoon nap. I don't think I've had one since I was a kid." He finished eating, and she set his plate on the floor and pulled his head over into her lap, massaging the sore points out of his shoulders.  
  
"You won't get much sleep here," he protested with his infallible consideration.  
  
"Yes, I will. I'll sleep too, I promise." She massaged his temples, stroking his hair, and gradually coaxed him into relaxation. Even after he was asleep, she kept it up. Some enchanted evening, she thought, the song unspooling itself in her head again. Yes, the connection could not be developed. It either was there, or it wasn't. With him, she had known the first time she saw him. She gradually drifted off herself, only to be awakened a bit later when he started to get restless. She held the dreams away for a while, cradling him like a child, and he settled down. About 4:00, though, she had fallen back asleep herself, and he suddenly snapped awake with such a jerk that he toppled straight off the couch.  
  
"Horatio!" She pulled him back up, holding him.  
  
"Beds do have some advantages," he said after several minutes. "Harder to fall out of. I've managed it, though." He kissed her again. "You're still here."  
  
Her reply was gentler than usual this time, finally realizing what was behind the statement. "I'll always be here. This week and every other." She kissed him back. "What now? Want to watch another movie?"  
  
"Sure." He straightened up to sit on the couch. "Some love story where everything works out and they live happily ever after. Like we will." She smiled at him as she went to browse the video case.  
  
"Brigadoon, since we're in the mood for musicals. I haven't seen that one in years."  
  
"Good choice. Almost like being in love," he said, savoring her with his eyes.  
  
"Nothing almost about it." She started the musical and settled back on the couch tightly against him. They watched it together, the discovery, the struggle, and finally, the beautiful victory of love. The movie ended, and they stayed on the couch, settled into each other's arms contentedly. Horatio felt more relaxed against her than he had earlier. Calleigh held him a little longer, then glanced at her watch.  
  
"It's almost 7:00. I'd better start supper."  
  
"Not quite yet." His voice was a low plea, and he never pleaded for anything. "Just sit here with me a little longer."  
  
What could she say in the face of that? She settled back down against him, holding him, relishing the right to do it, the utter privilege of sharing his life. Even this week. He leaned his head against her and closed his eyes, but she knew he wasn't sleeping.  
  
A loud knock sounded on the door. Calleigh jumped, but Horatio didn't. "Who on earth?" She scrambled off the couch. They had told the group at work not to disturb them for anything. Later, Calleigh had cornered the boys in the lab and phrased it much stronger, saying she'd use the first one who interrupted their week as target practice. Speed and Delko had exchanged knowing grins, which they tried to hide as she glared at them. So help her, if they were here as some kind of joke, she show them some Southern fury.  
  
While she was mentally murdering her coworkers, Horatio scrambled off the couch and went to the door himself. "Don't answer it," she whispered. "Maybe it's a salesman. He'll go away." She broke off as he opened the door, revealing the catering staff from their favorite restaurant. "What. . . " Her voice trailed off. Horatio, suave and self-possessed as ever, let them in, supervised the arrangement of the dishes on the table, and gave them a lavish tip as they left.  
  
"Thank you, gentlemen."  
  
"Anytime, Mr. Caine." The door swung shut, and Horatio turned to face her with his eyes glowing. He loved pulling surprises as much as she hated receiving them, and it was rare for him to be able to blindside her so completely.  
  
"When did you order dinner?" She went over to the table, investigating the dishes. All of their favorites.  
  
"Last week. It's been set up all weekend." He came up beside her and gripped her arms firmly but gently, turning her to face him. "Do you realize what today is, Calleigh?"  
  
A lot of things, but she didn't especially want to put them into words. The day your mother was brutally beaten to death? The first day of the eternal week from hell? He read her thoughts, as always.  
  
"I mean, what else it is. This is our anniversary, in a way. It was a year ago tonight that you first got your foot in the door, and I started to let you in." He pulled out her chair and held it for her while she sat down, still dazed. "And we're going to celebrate it. Every single year. From now on, that's what April 3rd means." He seated himself across the table from her. "You said the key was to replace it with something else."  
  
She stared at him. "Horatio, you never cease to amaze me. I'd never looked at it like that." Numbly, she started to fill their plates. As well as she knew him, he could still leave her speechless. She thought of that night a year ago, when she had found him asleep in his office and happened to be standing there during one of his nightmares. He had been trapped into a situation where he couldn't deny that something was wrong, was beyond his control. That had, indeed, been the first crack in the wall. Without that week, he probably would have still held her away, loving her from a distance, but terrified that he would jinx her and she would die if he let her close. "We might never have gotten together," she said.  
  
He shook his head. "I think we would have. You can only contain a fire so long. But it certainly helped move it along faster. Here I was thinking that nobody on earth could stand going through this week with me, like Marcella said, and you fell right into the middle of it and refused to go away." He studied her affectionately. "That's the only thing that gave me confidence to go on with this. You saw me at my worst, first thing."  
  
"No," she corrected. "I saw you at your best for two years first. I already knew you, loved you. But that week, I saw you being vulnerable. That's not your worst. It makes you even more lovable, you know. Hard to have a relationship with someone on a pedestal."  
  
They ate by candlelight, Calleigh savoring the food and Horatio at least trying to. Both of them savored the company. Words were unnecessary. When they had finished, he came around to her side, pulling a small package out of his pocket. "I have a present for you," he said. He handed her the small box, and she opened it with a gasp of delight. It was a necklace with a small silver heart, and in the middle of the heart was a sapphire. "It matches your eyes," Horatio said. "And that's where you are, now. In my heart. My life started a year ago tonight." He carefully fastened it around her neck, then kissed her. She launched herself into his arms with all the love she felt, and somehow, they eventually ended up on the kitchen floor, tangled up with each other, loving and being loved. She ran her hands gently across the back of his shoulders, delighted to find that there was no tension there anymore.  
  
"You sure know how to wish a girl happy anniversary, Handsome. Do we still get to celebrate our wedding anniversary?"  
  
He kissed her and began to pick them both up off the floor. "I can't wait. We'll celebrate lots of other days, too. Memorial Day, the 4th of July, Arbor Day. I'm sure we can always find some occasion if we look hard enough."  
  
They ended up back on the couch where they had been so much of the day, not watching movies this time, just wrapped up in each other's arms, holding each other gently. Horatio leaned against her, and she could feel the undertone of tension beginning to creep back into his shoulders. "This is going to take some time, I'm afraid," he apologized softly, and she kissed the top of his head.  
  
"We'll beat it in the end, though." She stroked his hair gently. "I do love the necklace. I only wish I'd gotten you something."  
  
"You got me the Rubic's cube. That was a good idea, too, Cal. It does help. But more than that, you gave me yourself." He squeezed her a little tighter. She held him, rocking him slightly, letting him feel her presence.  
  
"And I'll never take it back. You've got me forever." Neither one of them said anything else after that, just resting in each other, comforted by the contact. Eventually, he fell asleep again. She studied his chiseled, handsome features, even more handsome now, when his defenses were down. He was sound asleep. Of course, she didn't expect that to last, not tonight, but she knew that things would get better. They were winning, step by step. He would never forget, but they would move on. Together. She leaned over and kissed him gently, suddenly so overwhelmed with love that she had to do something, and her soft whisper filled the room.  
  
"My life started a year ago tonight." 


End file.
